Grumpy Old Lady

Yesterday we went on a mini-vacation. We packed up everything we could possibly need for a night away (which is so much when you have a newborn: one suitcase, a purse, a diaper bag, the laptop bag and the back packed full of everything else).

We stuffed it all in the trunk and took off.

And at the end of the day, after the water park, after dinner and after the visit to the arcade we settled into our hotel room for the night.

That's when I began to notice something.

I'll just call it "My bitching."

Why do I call that you ask?

Because I was constantly bitching about the noise. The kids outside at the pool, they were too loud. The air conditioning unit made too much noise. The people in the next room to ours, they would not shut up.

It was amongst all this bitching that I was doing when I realized that I'd turned into a grumpy old lady.

My dear friend Angela said I am just too grumpy.

In my defense, I live on a farm. A very quiet farm where after 9pm you can't hear a peep except for the occasional horse calling out or frog chirping in the pool.

So I'm used to silence.

When you take me off my farm, plop me down in the middle of tourist central I freak out.

Okay, maybe not freak out. But I bitch.

And moan.

And while getting away, even for a night, was somewhat refreshing, I was so happy to get home to my quiet little farm and it's silence.

You'll hear no bitching from me night... not a peep.